Laundry and Tan
by iamtheoutlaw
Summary: Why is Dean always scowling when he walks out of Landry and Tan, after doing his weekly load of dirty laundry? He blames the raven-haired, uninterested, giant novel-reading, completely infuriating worker behind the front desk.


Why is Dean always scowling when he walks out of Landry and Tan, after doing his weekly load of dirty laundry? He blames the raven-haired, uninterested, giant novel-reading, completely infuriating worker behind the front desk.

Every week, every single week, Dean comes to this very same laundry mat to do his laundry. However, every time he walks in the dark-haired man pries his intensely blue eyes away from his reading material, and states simply—like he's never seen Dean a day in his life—"Hello, welcome to Laundry and Tan, tanning is this way" then he points stupidly behind him, "and laundry is…" and then gestures vaguely around the room to his right, that is clearly full of washing machines.

And he always, every time, goes back to his reading material, not acknowledging Dean once after that. After a hundred plus weeks of this, Dean's beyond tired of it. Honestly? Does the guy really have to act like he doesn't even know who Dean is?

Dean's brother Sammy tells him to relax, to "stop being rude and muttering things under your breath."

So Dean complies, when he's with Sam, that is. However when he's by himself, Dean indulges, taunting the man in whispered voices. Yet still, the guy can't even look up from his book, ever!

Sam also tries to say this man is clearly just a good worker, and does what the company asks of him. But nobody could possibly be that good of worker. This was a Laundry and Tan after all.

No matter what Sam says, this is not about the fact that this man has the prettiest eyes, thickest sex hair, or plushest chapped lips he's ever laid eyes on, none of that stuff has to do with his anger. At all. His anger has everything to do with the guy being stupidly forgetful and never remembering Dean, because honestly if Dean worked in a store for over a year he'd remember which customers needed to tan and which only came to do laundry.

Besides, Dean isn't even gay. Ask anyone! He is a lady's man, and has been since middle school. Sure, he likes to watch Dr. Sexy MD a little too much. Sure, there was that one time fumbling in the broom closet with Anna's little brother, Cas, in high school and sure, he gets mistaken for gay at every motel he and Sam check into; but that proves little compared to the endless list of girls who Dean's got under his belt. High school was fifteen years ago anyways.

Once, when Dean got fed up with the man's banter, he walked in without his shirt on- just to see if he could get a reaction. But no dice! The guy simply looked up from his book and said, "Welcome to Laundry and Tan…tanning's this way and laundry's this way."

Then when Dean huffed and turned towards the laundry side the man had the audacity to give Dean a weird look. Hello? Does Dean look like he needs a tan? No, his body is perfectly tan, he is a mechanic—who mostly works with his shirt off—after all. But does the guy ask him how he gets so tan? No. But Dean doesn't care of course, he just saying.

Sammy had told him, "Stop being such a creeper, Dean. Of course the guys gonna think you want to tan when you walk in with no shirt on!"

Well screw all of them, because today he's telling blue eyes his problem, no matter what.

Walking into the store, the tiny bell rings alerting the man someone's here. He looks up from his book and starts, "Welcome to Laundry—"

"You know what, buddy?" Dean cuts him off, "You…you…ugh!"

"Um…is there something I can help you with?" The man asks, eyes widening, almost looking scared.

And damn, if those eyes aren't the most beautiful works of art Dean's ever seen. Then that mouth! Parting slightly, giving way a sliver of the man's pearly white teeth hidden underneath. Well shit, maybe Dean is gay? Because his body is definitely reacting like it.

Dean sighs in defeat, leaning on the counter and summoning his years of bar flirting experience, he says bravely, "Yes, you could give me your phone number."

To Dean's surprise the man blushes, warm redness coloring his cheekbones, making him even more striking. First the guy shuts his book, not even remembering to mark his page and then the man is sitting the book down. Actually removing it from his hands! Hands that Dean just realized look very good without a heavy book between them.

"Um, sure," the guy starts with a small smile. As he picks up a pen and takes one of the cards off the desk to write down his number, he adds, "I always thought you were straight, Dean."

What? Did he just…call Dean by his name?

"You know my name, how?" Dean asks.

The other man lets out a laugh, "well we only went to high school together for two years."

Dean's jaw drops, so this whole time he was actually…Sam had been right? The guy was actually just doing an extremely good job sticking to company polices? Not believing what he just heard Dean stutters out, "but I…I don't remember you."

"No I suppose you wouldn't," the man says with a knowing smile, "you spent all your time in the principal's office, or with the L.A.R.P-ing club and I…well, didn't talk to anybody."

"Face like yours?" Dean slips before he can censor himself.

The other man blushes even brighter red and slides Dean his phone number, saying, "Well I guess losing the glasses and acne helped."

Realization dawns.

Glasses.

Acne.

Dark broom closet.

Anna's book worm little brother.

"Cas," he says, suddenly felling stupid.

Before Cas can even so much as acknowledge Dean's realization, Dean is leaning over the counter and pulling Cas into a sloppy kiss.


End file.
